


Strength

by miera



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-06
Updated: 2011-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-17 16:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But she wasn't weak. He'd been wrong about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strength

Ronon walked through the control room on his way to his bed, allowing himself to look into Weir's office. She was leaning against her desk, talking to Beckett. Ronon's eyes flickered over her quickly, taking in the delicate arch of her neck, the swell and flare of her hips and breasts, without pausing his stride. Even the brief image of her would stay with him until he reached his own room.

She appeared fragile. Her body was long and thin, not strongly muscled like his or Teyla's. He probably could wrap one of his own hands around her entire neck and snap it without much effort.

But she wasn't weak. He'd been wrong about that.

When he'd first arrived, he'd clung to Teyla. She was a stranger, but she was the most familiar thing in the city. Despite the differences between the Athosians and Sateda, he could understand her more easily than the other people now surrounding him.

Weir was like Atlantis to him, exotic and unknown and confusing. She didn't lead, she talked. She gave in to others rather than expecting them to agree with her. He didn't understand how she could possibly be in charge of these people in a war. He wasn't comforted by the fact that she seemed just as unsettled by him as he was by her. Whatever his opinion of her, he hated that she seemed to be frightened of him. He was sick of being surrounded by fear.

The first time he realized he might be wrong about her strength was when Beckett told him about finding another version of Weir in one of the city's labs. The doctor tried to explain how it was possible for there to be more than one of a person, but Ronon got the feeling Beckett didn't really understand it himself.

The important thing was Weir had sacrificed herself to save the rest of them, apparently without hesitation. A leader should never ask something of his people that he wouldn't do himself. Knowing that about her had made Ronon feel a little better.

It wasn't until after he'd been in the city for a while, and been around McKay for a while, that Ronon started to understand why Weir was in charge rather than Sheppard. In Ronon's experience, a leader imposed his will, but that would not have worked with someone like McKay. It wouldn't have worked with Sheppard himself, for that matter. Weir gave the appearance of listening to them and agreeing with them, but in agreeing she controlled them far better than a direct order could have.

Ronon realized he'd been wrong. Just because she could bend didn't mean she would break. He saw that for himself when she refused to barter the safety of the city for Sheppard's life. It was clear the decision was hurting her, but she didn't falter.

She was strong. It was just a different kind of strength than he was used to. She moved with people, guiding them rather than trying to force them. When she'd done that to him at first, he sneered at her weakness. Now, it comforted him. She reminded him that he was free again. And she wasn't shying away from him so much anymore.

Ronon noticed her conflicts with Caldwell were based around this appearance of weakness. Caldwell was someone Ronon first perceived as a strong leader, but living in Atlantis for a year had made him aware of just how bad Caldwell would be for the city in comparison to her.

Ronon also noticed that Caldwell spent a lot of time staring at Weir's body, and it made something in Ronon sharpen with hostility. Most of the men in the city looked at her, from Sheppard on down. She either didn't know or had trained herself not to notice, but Ronon saw. But none of the other men in the city roused his jealousy. Even her obvious closeness with Sheppard didn't make him feel like this.

Caldwell wanted to master her. It angered Ronon because too many women - and men - had looked at him that way. The women he'd bedded in his life either wanted to control him or be under his control. He'd thought that was just the way of things. Now, though, when he made her blush, throwing her off her center of balance, trying not to laugh at her then seeing her laugh at herself, he saw a new way.

Elizabeth would move with a lover, not seeking to control or submit but joining with a man towards a common goal of mutual satisfaction. His heart was starting to crave that almost as much as his body craved hers.

Alone in his room, he slipped a hand over his own arousal, imagining her naked body, lithe and graceful, sliding against his own. He dreamed of what she would taste like, how soft the skin of her neck would be against his lips, the fullness of her breasts in his palms, the tight heat of her body around him. He pictured himself giving her pleasure, receiving it back in return until they were both exhausted.

He wanted her in his bed. He wanted her to rest in his arms, drowsy and sated from their joining. He wanted her not to be afraid of him anymore.


End file.
